A friend from church comes over with his four-year-old son. The boy has a half-scale toy Winchester similar to this one. He points it in my face and makes a shooting noise.

“Don’t point that at me.”

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“I told him it was okay,” says the dad, who is also a bigtime firearms guy.

“It’s not okay.”

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Boy shoots me a second time, and I push the barrel away a second time and say, “Don’t shoot me!”

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“I told him it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” I say, as the boy aims at me a third time and shoots me again.

This time I grab the end of the barrel and yell at him forcefully, “DO NOT POINT THAT AT ME!!”

“That really bothers you?” asks the father. “I told him it was okay.”

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“It’s not okay with me,” I tell him.

Indulged little boy, dad who owns many guns and lots of ammo and I hope nobody ever gets killed because the boy can’t tell the difference between a toy gun and a real gun and a real gun that, for critical moment, is a toy in his four-year-old mind.

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The dad invited me to participate with him in the fall in a competitive pistol shooting league and I now have serious doubts.